


Under the Surface

by Jenseits_der_Sterne



Category: The Legend of Zelda: Breath of the Wild
Genre: Angst, Cicadas, F/M, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Mild Sexual Content, biology analogies, learning about oneself, personal development
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-25
Updated: 2020-08-25
Packaged: 2021-03-06 21:22:28
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,545
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26095558
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jenseits_der_Sterne/pseuds/Jenseits_der_Sterne
Summary: Zelda thinks of herself as a fact-driven, scientifically minded person. She takes in information, plugs that information into her view of the world and hopes to come out with reasonable conclusions. However, the way she views Link seems to be the exception to this rule. For when it comes to him, she knows herself to be foolish and impetuous and ignorant of her own heart.Or, Zelda makes the same mistakes all over again.
Relationships: Link/Zelda (Legend of Zelda)
Comments: 30
Kudos: 179





	Under the Surface

**Author's Note:**

> Written with immensely helpful feedback from [ Bhujerban](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bhujerban/pseuds/Bhujerban) and [MuseLover1901](https://archiveofourown.org/users/MuseLover1901/pseuds/MuseLover1901). 
> 
> Also written with a lot of encouragement from a good group of friends who not only didn't balk when I suggested an analogy, but openly encouraged it <3
> 
> About the M rating, what's here is... pretty vague? But, I guess when in doubt, be cautious!

Three weeks.

That is all that it takes after the Calamity's defeat.

This shouldn’t be surprising. Zelda’s relationship with Link has always been punctuated with rapid shifts that arrive like a sudden change in seasons. Indeed, over the course of knowing him, Zelda’s attitude toward him has oscillated from one pole to the other, a sign of the wild possibilities their dynamic is capable of.

She was eleven when she first met Link. At the time, he was shorter than her, and yet… he was apparently skilled enough with a sword to wear the smart uniform of a Royal Guardsman. Every three days he rotated into the schedule. As a regular member of the Guard, he would be present during mundane happenings, like a dinner with her father or an official inspection of the armory. He always stood with his back straight at attention. He was professional, crisp and polite while conversing. If she were honest with herself, he was an object of curiosity: essentially her peer in age, yet he worked as a member of the royal retinue.

Any conversation Zelda had with him then was brief, perfunctory. Occasionally he would make a witty quip or direct a soft smile her way and, oh goodness, she was often confused by how such simple interactions with him always seemed to leave her flustered.

That all changed when he appeared with the Sword that Seals the Darkness, ashen faced and silent, presenting it to both her and her father in the sanctum. The King’s voice had boomed as he’d made a proclamation regarding the kingdom’s good fortune in knowing the Hero’s identity. Link, for his part, had remained impassive the whole time, his jaw set and his gaze distant. It was a stark contrast to the boy she’d only just started to acquaint herself with. For Zelda, it was a closing of the doors between them, so to speak. 

And thus began what Zelda viewed as a rather strained four year relationship of eyeing one another, a stark contrast to the one brief year before the Sword. She reasoned that the change in his behavior toward her could only be explained as judgment on his part. Well, if that was how he truly felt, then two could play that game. Zelda took to doing her best to ignore him as he seemed to do with her.

Things changed starkly once more when he was appointed as her personal knight. Zelda initiates tense, one-sided arguments. When she was at her worst, she shouted at him, her hands clenched into fists before her and her cheeks red in anger. While he was silent in the face of her outbursts, he also managed to be defiant in his own way, ignoring the orders that she would issue him. He did his damnedest to follow her everywhere and it was  _ maddening. _

Link saved her from the Yiga in the Gerudo Desert and then the pendulum had swung back, their dynamic changing once more. Zelda, ready to acknowledge the error of her ways, had apologized.

A friendship followed, starting out shy and optimistic. And then it grew into something deeper, a comforting and solemn sort of understanding of one another: they had a shared destiny, one that terrified them both. They bonded, consoling one another by putting words to their fears or reasoning out hypothetical questions that guessed at alternate life trajectories. It was a relief, an escape...

And at the  _ very  _ end of it all, Zelda understood all too late that there was something fierce and protective about what they both shared. It was a flame that burned brightly enough for him to cross that line from courage to recklessness when he’d defended her. A flame that caused her to put her body between his and the Guardian. A flame they’d both been tending to for some time while its intensity was neither understood nor explored. 

And so... “May I ask, do you really remember me?” 

She stands on Hyrule Field with her heart in her hands. 

If Link’s surprised by the question, he doesn’t let it show. He draws in a deep breath and when he speaks his voice is hoarse from the battle. “Goddesses... I’ve tried to, Princess, but I know it’s not enough.”

To hear his voice is a blessing. But his words hit her like a chilling gust. It isn’t a ‘yes.’ In fact, it feels more like a ‘no.’ When she hears him use her title instead of her given name, the best she can do is hide her devastation, push away the pain she feels clawing at her heart. She schools her expression into one that she hopes is more neutral and nods. 

In hindsight, she realizes this was a rather selfish and bold question to have asked of him. But nonetheless, here they are and she’s asked it.

Over the course of that first day, he seems to sense her sorrow. He watches her and in doing so, his attentiveness is  _ achingly  _ familiar. To the trained eye, which hers is when it comes to Link, his concern is visible in the set of his shoulders, in the small crease between his brows. But otherwise he projects a steady calm. A steady calm that is frustrating in  _ exactly  _ the same way it had been all the way back in the beginning of their fateful partnership when she’d despised him.

Once night falls, he builds a fire. Zelda stares into it, wraps herself in both the silence and the blanket he’d handed her when he’d seen her shivering.

Link surprises her when he breaks that silence, clearing his throat. She looks up to find that his expression is surprisingly raw. “I’m sorry.”

She stares and stares and the silence stretches. When she manages a response, it comes out as a croak. “It’s not your fault.” 

He studies her, his eyes as sharp and blue as ever. She can see it in the set of his jaw that he doesn’t believe her. 

Zelda turns away and makes a show of pulling the blanket more tightly around her.

* * *

After that, well, ‘tense’ wouldn’t be the right word to characterize their dynamic. But… there is certainly an element of that. Perhaps it would be more accurate to say they are reserved with one another, a little stand-offish and unsure in their interactions.

Link always manages to be close, but never  _ too close. _ He seems to stay just out of reach in how he stands at her side, yet he may as well be a thousand yards away. He is kind in his words and actions. He is as attentive to her now just as he had been a hundred years ago. But the closeness she’d felt to him a hundred years ago, well… that seems to be so far out of her reach in this day and age.

The scattered ruins of the land are a lot for her to take in. The wilds are quiet, just as Link is. There’s a hush in the forests. The flow of the river through the Dueling Peaks is gentle. All of it feels altogether too quiet and muted and she does not believe in it. Surely there is something underneath this all, something just waiting to take her by surprise?

Their companionship is much the same, for it feels as though something is waiting just below the surface. Exactly what that something is, Zelda cannot put a finger on it. Perhaps it’s trepidation? Curiosity? Sadness? Hesitation? Hope? In any given moment, any one of them seems just as plausible as the next.

During their first evening in Kakariko, Link is quiet and Impa pushes and prods him for this. Perhaps Impa knows Zelda’s appointed knight better than she does. The thought, when it occurs to her, stings.

Later, Impa levels Zelda with an appraising stare, “Is all well between you and Link?” Zelda huffs and feels defensive. Impa’s thoughts and advice serve as little consolation.

During their second evening in Kakariko, she steals glances at him as he converses with Impa’s guards. To watch him like this is a revelation: Link chatting… Link laughing at a joke… Link gesturing as he recounts some story she cannot hear... And, oh goodness! Link catching her watching him, his eyes wide… Link giving her a tentative smile, a shy and fragile thing… Zelda flushes, and has to look away.

* * *

They leave Kakariko, agreeing to journey together and follow Impa’s advice regarding where to go and what to do next. 

The tension is still there, but there is something different about it. When Link asks her questions, Zelda is certain that there are deeper questions buried beneath the simple ones. One evening he says, “I’ll prepare a meal. What...” A pause springs to life between his words. “What would you like?” 

It’s a simple question on the face of it: preparing and eating food is necessary for sustenance and him seeking her preference is thoughtful. But the keenness of his gaze, the hesitance in his voice, and that pause seem to suggest that something more complex hides behind his question.

“I would like fruitcake.” 

On the surface, her answer is meant to be a jest. Surely a cake cannot be cooked in the wilds: the delicate decorations are only possible in a well-stocked kitchen, like the cavernous one in the castle of one hundred years ago. But under that surface-level answer, she’s curious to prod at him a bit and see what he’ll do with a request as ridiculous as this. 

He levels her with an appraising stare. Then he nods and proceeds to pull the ingredients out of his enchanted pack. 

“Goodness. I wasn’t serious. We really ought to eat something more substantial.”

“Cake can be substantial, if you believe in yourself and try hard enough,” he says with a straight face, making eye contact with her from across the cookpot. 

She’s the first one to look away, huffing out a laugh as she feels an old and familiar heat wash over her face. 

It would be wholly unbecoming in a courtly setting, but Zelda ends up eating three generous slices of cake that night for dinner. 

When she finishes the third, Link has a glimmer in his eye, “Substantial enough?” 

“I reserve my answer to that question until you ask it again in an hour.”

For the first time in a hundred years, she hears amusement playing at the edges of his words. “Ah-ha. Ever the pragmatist, aren’t you?” 

“I think I’ll leave that for you to determine,” she quips with a raised brow.

It’s the first time she manages to make him laugh in this new world. His grin is lopsided as he fiddles with a blade of grass. “Well then. I guess I’ll be asking you again in an hour.”

Zelda can help neither her smile in answer to his grin nor the blush she feels spreading across her cheeks. “It would seem so.”

He hums a response as he flops to lie down, his hands behind his head and his gaze on the stars above. 

Perhaps… perhaps  _ they  _ aren’t a lost cause? Perhaps there is something to be built once more between them? Even if everything seems to be all at once similar and different and unknown and so achingly  _ known? _

* * *

The transition from spring to summer is swift, as the gentle warmth of spring is rapidly burnt away by full-blown summer over just the span of a week. 

Three weeks after the defeat of the Calamity, they’re traveling on foot, on their way to Rito Village, traversing through the expanse that is Hyrule Field. 

With the sun blazing overhead and the humidity making the air heavy, Zelda suggests a break in the woods. “The shade will do us good, shield us from the midday sun?” 

Link’s agreement comes easily.

Zelda tries to preoccupy herself from the heat by flipping through the Sheikah Slate in the shade of a large tree. 

Link stalks off into the forest without a word by way of explanation. It seems that he can’t sit still. There always seems to be a restlessness in him that Zelda doesn’t recognize from Before.

It’s a surprise when perhaps only five or so minutes later he reappears. “Hey.”

She glances up, “Oh, hello.”

“Can I… There’s something I think you’ll find interesting.”

“Oh?” He wants to show her something. This is new and Zelda cannot hide her surprise.

And so she follows him into the denser part of the forest. He leads her to a tree and then crouches down to kneel. Zelda follows suit as he points at an odd shell on the bark. “Do you see that?”

She’s never seen anything like this and she itches to pull out the Slate, to use the Compendium to identify it. But… when she takes in his surprisingly eager expression, she pushes that thought aside. “What is it?” 

“It’s a cicada shell.”

“Fascinating.” She leans in to study the delicate structure. “I’ve never seen one before.”

“Once someone asked me to catch ten cicadas for them.”

Zelda can't help the confused laugh that escapes her. “Whatever for?”

Link lets out an exhale as he rubs at the back of his neck. “I don’t really know. You wouldn’t believe all the strange things people will offer pay for. Collect ten cicadas, get two hundred rupees.” He does a nervous little shrug. “I figure, why not?” 

A girlish giggle escapes her and she winces internally at the sound of it. “I’d venture a guess then that odd jobs underpin the economy of this era?”

Link nods, but says no more. His eyes slide back to the cicada shell and he makes no move to stand. Her eyes flick between him and the shell a couple times before she leans in to study it more closely. 

“I must say,” Zelda begins, “I’ve studied a lot about botany and a bit here and there about biology, but my interests were tightly scoped on things like brewing elixirs. So, I’m afraid to say, I don’t know anything about cicadas--” her eyes seek out his “--except that they can be quite loud!”

Link’s staring at her and something…  _ something  _ about him suddenly strikes her as vulnerable, kneeling here with her on the forest floor. His face is not at all impassive: there’s something shy in how he’s looking at her. She can see how his throat bobs as he swallows. “I actually learned a lot about them from the guy I sold them to.” 

There’s a pause in which Zelda realizes she’s going to need to prompt him to continue. “Oh, I’d… I’d love for you to tell me about them.”

He nods, his eyes still trained on her face before they slide back down to regard the insect’s shell. “Well. As juveniles they lie dormant underground for years and years. 17 years, to be exact.” 

“Really? Such an odd number...”

Link hums a quiet affirmative.

Zelda eyes him. “What do they spend all that time underground doing?”

“From what I was told, they feed on roots.” 

“I see,” Zelda murmurs as she leans around to study the cicada shell in profile.

Link clears his throat. “When they’re ready, they all emerge at once. They climb a little ways up a tree--” he tips his chin toward the shell “--just like this one did. When they shed their skin, they’re fully mature.”

“How fascinating!” Excitement finds its way into her voice as she leans back to look at Link. “Insects have always intrigued me. They’re able to radically change their form and that’s intriguing!”

Link’s nod is slow and again she’s struck once more with how vulnerable he looks right now. There’s a boyishness in the nervous set of his shoulders, in the quick movement of his eyes. He clears his throat once more. “After they emerge… they climb up to the high branches and then they sing. They only live for a few weeks…” His voice trails off as his eyes slide back to stare at the cicada shell.

Zelda’s confused at this information, for surely there’s a missing detail here. “To what end? Why spend all those years underground to only live above ground for a few weeks?” 

Link watches her and something about his expression becomes bashful. She pushes on, determined to figure this out. “There  _ must  _ be a reason! Their singing is certainly significant, for why else they emerge after a comfortable 17 years underground?” 

Her eyes widen when the realization hits her. She brings her clenched first down to rest in her open palm, the excitement of discovery brightening her eyes as she leans toward him. 

“Propagation, of course!” It’s hard to tell in the shade of the woods, but Zelda believes she can discern a flush spreading across Link’s cheeks. It would certainly be a curious response to her realization and she’ll need to tuck that away to consider later. But right now she’s made a connection, there’s discovery buzzing in both her thoughts and actions. “A species must survive to propagate and pass on their genetic material. It would stand to reason that cicadas must emerge to mate! Otherwise there wouldn’t be more cicadas 17 years later.”

At this point the redness of Link’s cheeks is undeniable and he can’t seem to meet her gaze. “Yes, that’s what I was told.” 

“Brilliant,” Zelda says a little breathlessly. “Oh, could we please take this shell with us? If they only emerge every 17 years, then it’ll be another 17 years before a specimen like this presents itself once more.” Link looks pensive and then he nods.

The next few minutes involve a delicate operation. For some reason, the whole procedure seems to require whispering, Zelda is the one to begin speaking in hushed tones and Link follows suit. She uses his pocket knife to carefully separate the shell from the tree’s bark. Link cups his hands beneath it so that when it comes free, it falls directly into his open palms. 

Once the cicada shell is safely stored in the Sheikah Slate, Zelda sits back on her heels with a wide smile. This feels good! It feels like her scientific curiosity has been positively rekindled after  _ so, so long. _ She’s invigorated, ready to take on anything!

Zelda draws in a breath, ready to say as much when she regards Link. He’s still kneeling, staring at a point on the forest floor off to his right. She watches him and finds that curious vulnerability is still present, apparent in his posture and in the way he seems to be chewing on the inner part of his lip. 

“Link?”

It’s also in his eyes when he looks at her, wide and round and open. 

She’s seen this look before: a hundred years ago, sitting together at a campfire. Him telling her, haltingly at points, why he was so quiet...

“Are you... are you alright?”

“I… I wanted to say that…” He stops and draws in a deep breath. “Once I learned about cicadas, I kind of felt… I felt a sort of affinity for these weird bugs.” 

“Oh.” Zelda is a little confused. “Why do you…” Zelda trails off, the analogy clicking into place before she even manages to finish her question.

Link shrugs, the gesture small and unsure. His eyes slide away from hers. “Being underground, locked away… waiting for the right moment to emerge. It... struck a chord with me.”

Zelda stares at him. In the last three weeks, he’s never spoken to her about this.  _ They’ve  _ never spoken about this. Perhaps this is hard… Perhaps  _ Zelda  _ has made this hard for him, with the disappointment she’d felt in reuniting with him that very first day. “I see,” she says a little breathlessly.

He picks up a small pebble and fidgets with it, his eyes fixed on it as he speaks. “They come out of the ground and, boy, do they really make a racket with their singing.” He huffs out a quiet laugh. “Everyone knows they’re there, so there’s no missing it the year they emerge. And I… Well, I kind of felt like I was doing the same thing over the course of the last year. No one in Hyrule could mistake that something was happening… that  _ someone  _ was doing  _ something  _ with the Divine Beasts.” 

The breath Link draws in next is shaky, “And I dunno… I thought it was possible I wouldn’t-” He stops abruptly, a small frown gracing his normally placid features. A moment later he surprises her when his eyes snap up to meet hers, “Well. I thought I might die. Facing off against Calamity Ganon.” He ends the statement with a sad, rueful smile that doesn’t reach his eyes.

Zelda’s mouth goes dry. The thought, spoken so plainly and so bluntly by him, makes her chest constrict painfully.

Her reaction must show on her face, for he mumbles an apology, “I’m sorry.”

She swallows, fumbles to respond. “N-no, please. Don’t be. I… I really want to hear what you have to say.” 

He nods, but says no more. His gaze drops down to the pebble in his hands and silence reigns.

But Zelda has never been good with silence and so she seeks to fill it. “The cicadas…” His eyes rise to meet hers and there’s an intensity there that she’s not accustomed to. “They live a brief life above ground… and that… that is what you feared? For yourself?”

He nods once more, slow and deliberate. 

“Well, the analogy you’ve made between yourself and cicadas, it’s fascinating. It’s really quite poetic, actually.” 

Link shrugs, a careless gesture that suggests some agitation.

Zelda takes in a breath, worries that she’s said something wrong. “I hope you know that I am  _ so  _ happy that you’re here, with me.” A pause as she thinks. “And by you… I mean  _ you, _ right here, right now as you are. You not only survived, but you  _ triumphed. _ You saved me...” He’s holding his breath and it looks as though he’s hanging on her every word. “I… I am sorry if I’ve made you feel lesser, for not remembering me in the way I’d hoped you would. That was very wrong of me.”

His throat works as he swallows. His voice is hoarse when he speaks, “I’m so happy to be here with you, too.”

Zelda can’t help the breathy and watery laugh that escapes her. “Just think, there are all manner of bugs, creatures, and plants that you can now pull me into the woods to look at on a lovely afternoon such as this.”

At that he barks out a laugh but then it turns into a sob. And then her knight… her partner in destiny… her  _ friend  _ is holding his head in his hands. There, kneeling in the dappled light of the forest next to her and a tree, he cries.

Zelda has little experience with comforting others. In truth, she has far more experience being the one who’s comforted. Far longer than a hundred years ago, Urbosa had once sat at Zelda’s bedside, a hand running up and down Zelda’s back as she’d sobbed, her nose running and her body wracked with hiccups. A hundred years ago, she’d cried, standing in the Spring of Power, her face pressed into Link’s tunic, his arms wrapped around her, hesitant and light in his touch.

And so Zelda does her best to emulate Urbosa, to emulate Link himself as she shuffles forward on her knees. At first her hands hover uncertainly above his shaking shoulders, questioning if he even wants to be touched right now. But then she commits to it, lays a hand on his shoulder as she shifts closer. 

Link doesn’t fight it. His hands drop away from his face to hang limply at his sides and he drops his forehead to rest on her shoulder. She pulls him into her arms in a way that she thinks ought to be comforting. She brings a hand up to cup the back of his head, discovering that his hair is just as sleek and soft as it looks. She rubs his upper back with her other hand.

They stay like this until he quiets and his breathing evens out.

* * *

The walk back out of the woods feels different. There’s something refreshing in how the breeze meets her face, in how the sunlight becomes stronger as the canopy recedes.

“I don’t think I’ve ever cried like that.” A pause. “Well, not at least since my awakening. Before that, well… I couldn’t say.”

Zelda slips her hand into his. They eye one another for a couple seconds and then he tilts his face away, lets out a breathy laugh. While he seems very preoccupied with studying a rock formation off in the distance, Zelda is sharp and keen in her observation of him: there seems to be dusting of pink across his cheeks. But, she must be certain of this and work to confirm it, so she gives his hand a playful tug. When he turns to her, his eyes are bright. And  _ oh yes, _ his cheeks are what Zelda would describe as ‘very, very red.’

* * *

Zelda thinks of herself as a fact-driven, scientifically minded person. She takes in information, plugs that information into her view of the world and hopes to come out with reasonable conclusions. However, the way she views Link seems to be the exception to this rule. For when it comes to him, she knows herself to be foolish and impetuous and ignorant of her own heart.

Zelda also likes to think of herself as a person who’s capable of learning. The events of the Calamity a century ago were a master class in teaching her of the folly in not acting on her feelings for Link until it was far too late. Against all odds Zelda remained in stasis for a century holding back the Calamity. Link’s mortal wounds were healed and he lives. And yet... she’s frittered away three precious weeks with him. She’s spent that time wallowing over how little he seems to remember of her, being stand-offish and reserved in her interactions with him.

Considering these things, Zelda realizes an unfortunate truth about herself: when she misinterprets or misunderstands someone, it seems to be in her nature to not act rationally toward them. It’s happened with Link once before: over a hundred years ago as a 13 year old boy he’d emerged as the Hero of Hyrule and Zelda had chafed at the discovery. His ascension into his role had caused her to panic, for it meant that she was, in fact, destined to be the princess who would have to face down Calamity Ganon. Her judgments on him all that time ago were filtered through a biased lens and therefore her behavior toward him was antagonistic for such a lamentably long time. 

And now, in this present day and age, she’s unconsciously fallen into the same unfortunate cycle: when faced with disappointment over the extent of his memory loss, Zelda was crestfallen and has therefore held him at arm’s length.

She comes to understand these difficult truths about herself out as they walk, hand in hand, continuing their trek to Rito Village. 

But understanding opens the door to new thoughts and new possibilities! As such, it’s easy for Zelda to determine that she would very much like to kiss Link. 

Of course… that is a leap in so many ways. She should aim lower: shoot for a comfortable and friendly camaraderie, work toward trust and a deep friendship. If she could do it once a century ago, then she could surely do it again!

And yet… Zelda cannot think of a more direct way to her heart than a person making an analogy by way of biology. Link explaining the life cycle of a cicada to her? Link comparing himself to a cicada? Goodness... Zelda’s heart thumps loudly enough in her chest that she fears Link himself may very well hear it as he walks at her side.

So perhaps now is the time for action? Perhaps now is the time for boldness and a leap of faith?

These thoughts occupy her for the rest of the afternoon and she’s rather quiet because of it. 

They spend the whole day close to one another in one way or another. They walk hand in hand for a long stretch of time. They set up camp and as he cooks, Zelda hovers close by, asks him what he’s doing. When they eat, they sit so close that her elbow sometimes bumps against his. 

She follows him as he goes to a creek near their campsite to wash out their bowls and utensils. He laughs, “I can take care of this.”

“I know. But if I help, perhaps it’ll go faster?”

He watches her, a curious expression on his face until he nods.

And so they kneel together at the side of the creek. Link is both efficient and practical in that he brings soap and three rags with him: one to use for cleaning, a second to lay the wet and cleaned items out on, and a third to dry them out. 

The whole time Zelda wants to say something. For some reason, here,  _ now  _ seems better than at the fireside. As she wipes a bowl dry she reasons that in the dark, away from the light of the fire, perhaps hidden truths and desires will have an easier time making their way to the surface?

Of course, she’s hyper aware of how his fingertips touch hers when he hands her a cleaned item. She ends up distracted by how his tousled hair catches the moonlight and her distraction causes her to take twice as long as it should to dry a single item. He catches her staring and she has to look away, hoping the moonlight doesn’t betray her and reveal the flush she feels on her face. 

And then suddenly they’re done: the dinnerware is clean and Link is gathering it all up and he’s standing. He offers her a small smile and a hand to help her to her feet and she takes both gladly. 

But then she’s panicking. This is her  _ moment. _ And the moment is nearly gone, for Link is turning to walk back toward the light of the fire. 

He takes a couple steps but Zelda remains rooted to where she’s standing at the side of the creek, her hands wringing together before her heart.

Link stops and looks at her, curious, “Coming?” 

Her tongue feels thick and useless in her mouth and so she only manages to give him a nod. His eyes crinkle with a smile and he starts back toward the fire once more.

Oh, courage be with her!

Zelda jogs forward, lays a hand on his arm and he stops, his eyebrows high in question.

She’s supposed to  _ say  _ something. He’s confused and the silence will be awkward if she continues to stand here, staring at him with her hand on his arm. 

“Link, I…” Oh no. She hadn’t planned out what she’d say.

Link searches her face and something in his expression softens. He waits, for he’s always been patient, both in this lifetime and the last.

Since words seem to have failed her entirely, Zelda resolves for action instead. She takes a fortifying breath and then steps closer to him, raises up on her tiptoes. She leans forward and presses a clumsy kiss onto his cheek.

There’s a clattering as Link drops all of their dinnerware. The sound causes Zelda to spring back from him and then she’s mortified, her eyes on the ground. Before she can really think, she’s crouching and words are spouting out of her. “Oh no, that was… that was completely inappropriate. I don’t know… I don’t know what I was thinking... I am so sorry, I never should have...“

Link is slow to crouch down but when he does, he doesn’t reach for the bowls or the spoons or the ladle. Instead, he reaches for Zelda’s hands, stilling her frantic attempt to make it right. She finally raises her eyes to meet his. She finds that he’s wide-eyed and there’s no mistaking the flush on his face. She finds that once more today that he’s boyish in how he’s showing her his surprise. 

That’s when Zelda realizes that her hands are still clasped in his. She swallows and says lamely, “I… I made you drop it all.”

He nods, his eyes intense as he watches her face. “Yeah, but I don’t care about that.” There’s a pause as he tilts his head and then he repeats the same question he asked only a few nights ago. “What would you like, Zelda?”

You. That’s the first answer to pop into her mind, but that seems far too forward. Far too presumptuous. Far too possessive. 

Instead she settles on something that only represents a fraction of her longing, “I want a kiss.”

And so… as it turns out, the first kiss shared between the Princess and the Hero takes place with them kneeling on the ground, with the Hero gently pulling her hands closer, with the Hero leaning in and brushing his lips against hers. 

Their second kiss happens immediately thereafter, with Link releasing her hands and Zelda shuffling closer to him. With Zelda running a hand along his cheek and with Link placing his hands tentatively on her waist. Their lips meet again, soft and eager. When they part, Link lets out a shaky breath and his eyes are so hopeful as they flick between hers. It’s so adorable that it’s easy for Zelda to lean in and kiss him a third time.

Needless to say, the dinnerware lies forgotten on the ground for some time yet.

* * *

After that, well…  _ everything  _ changes. Zelda feels in any given moment that her heart may burst. Goodness, she’d  _ imagined, _ so, so often, that a romantic relationship with Link would be sweet. But despite all of that imagining, she wasn’t quite prepared for exactly how loving and attentive he could be.

And to just be able to walk up to him, to put her arms around him whenever it strikes her fancy is a revelation. One of these times when she slides under his arm, he teases her, his voice low and amused as he pulls her close. “You’re so needy.”

Zelda hums in affirmation and says a little haughtily, “Indeed, I am. You knew what you were signing up for.”

“What, when I became your appointed knight? Or when I kissed you?”

“Both.” She says with a grin before she lays a kiss on his neck. He gasps and his arms tighten around her.

* * *

Two weeks after their first kiss, Zelda asks to share his bedroll. Link agrees to it, but come bedtime he’s clearly fretting over something. It’s apparent in the tense set of his shoulders and in how he seems to have trouble meeting her eyes.

Zelda prides herself in her ability to suss this out and so she asks him what’s wrong. 

He peers at her, his expression solemn as he confesses, “If we’re to share a bedroll, you deserve to know that my feelings for you aren’t… well, they aren’t entirely chaste.”

Zelda’s response is swift and surprisingly suave considering she doesn’t think about the words coming out of her mouth, “Well, I should certainly hope not, what with all the kissing we’ve been doing these last couple of weeks.”

Link’s brows shoot up. His exclamation is a little breathless. “Oh!”

Zelda crawls closer to him and when she settles in front of him she says quiet and low, “Link. Ask me again what I would like.”

Link swallows. His eyes are dark and his voice is hoarse when he asks, “Zelda, what would you like?”

It seems far easier to show rather than tell and so she does just that, climbing onto his lap and tilting his face back to kiss him. It’s easy to place his hands where she wants them. Luckily, Link is eager to employ the same method, sliding his hands down to her hips and he showing her how he wants to feel her move on him. 

Their endeavors that night are punctuated with whispers and giggles. They’re also punctuated with the need to peel off one article of clothing after another. 

In truth, this had not been Zelda’s primary motive in wanting to sleep at his side. The general notion had just seemed like a nice, comforting thing to do together. Yet, his confession on having unchaste feelings for her had served as a wonderful and unexpected opening into the sort of amorous activities that Zelda was eager for. 

By the time they’re lying side by side, elated and satiated and exhausted, the fire has burned itself down to embers. Perhaps Zelda should feel immodest to be naked as she is in the wild. Perhaps she should feel ashamed at how loud she’d been when he’d brought her to her peak. Perhaps she should feel some amount of embarrassment over how she’d put her mouth on him and how the sounds he’d made had goaded her on. But, she doesn’t feel any of those things.

Instead she just feels immensely content. Enamored and completely and utterly in love. And, goodness, is that not such an absolutely wondrous thing?

* * *

The return of the Princess and the Hero to Kakariko is heralded with surprised and happy greetings from the Sheikah. The afternoon sunlight slants in where it can through the Pillars of Levia, bathing the village in that sleepy sort of lighting.

Predictably, they find Impa in her home, kneeling on her stack of cushions.

“The Calamity has been gone now for two and a half months.” Impa’s eyes are twinkling. “The world feels as though it’s awaking from a long, slow nightmare. I hear tell that you’ve visited all four races?”

“Indeed, we have,” Zelda says with a smile. At her side, Link nods in agreement.

The conversation meanders, Impa’s curious about their travels, to hear news of the world. 

After a time, Link begins to fidget, for Zelda knows that in this new era he can hardly stand to be still for too long. Finally he cracks and leans close to Zelda, places his hand on her lower back. “I’m gonna go stable the horses.”

Zelda smiles, “Very well. I’ll come find you later.”

He nods and then stands up with a fluid motion, ever graceful in his movements. 

Once the doors close behind him, Impa levels Zelda with a shrewd stare. “My my, it would seem to me that the two of you are getting along _ much better _ since your first time visiting us here in Kakariko?”

The flush that creeps up Zelda’s face is unavoidable. A coy smile finds its way onto her face. “Yes. We’ve grown close.”

“When you visited just after defeating the Calamity, it seemed to me that you were rather skeptical of him?”

A wave of embarrassment threatens to overtake Zelda. To be called out on something that points to her own faults so directly does not feel good.

Briefly she considers deflecting, but… why? What use would it be to attempt to hide her own failings? And with regard to Link, what use would it be to hide her relationship with him? To keep such a joyous and wonderful thing under the surface feels antithetical to all that she’s managed to learn in the last few weeks.

Zelda holds her head up, takes a fortifying breath. “Yes. I was holding unrealistic expectations of him. And when I judged that he didn’t meet them, well... I am ashamed to say I was not as kind to him as I should have been.” 

Impa’s tone is amused. “I see. I seem to recall a certain princess behaving a lot like that before the Calamity, too.” Her eyes dance with amusement.

Zelda huffs out a breath. Her embarrassment must show in how she fidgets with her gloves, in how her shoulders rise, in how she’s no longer able to meet Impa’s gaze. “I know. I’m the worst.”

Impa’s chuckle is surprising. “Not at all, Princess. We all have our failings. What’s important is that we recognize and learn to move past them.”

Zelda nods, feels some relief at that insight. “Indeed. And thank the Goddesses above that I finally saw the error in my ways.” She pauses a moment. Zelda finds that, of late, when she thinks of or speaks of Link, a joyous smile finds its way into her expression, it breathes warmth into her words. And then those words tumble out of her in a rush. “Oh Impa, Link and I are in love. I am beyond happy, he’s just so wonderful.”

Describing her relationship with Link to Impa is odd and heartening. Indeed, Zelda’s hasn’t yet had the opportunity to be so open and honest with someone besides Link about their relationship. It feels good. It feels affirming to see Impa, one of her oldest and dearest friends, be so happy for the two of them. 

But Impa has always been one to aim for surprise and she manages to do just that once more. “Where do you intend for this relationship with him to go?” 

Confused, Zelda asks, “I’m afraid I don’t understand?”.

“I mean, what do you expect of him, long term?”

Zelda stares and stares and stares. She hasn’t thought that far ahead at all.

* * *

Zelda fancies herself as a planner. She’s adept at seeing how something should play out, what must come first and then second and so on. At the tender age of nine, she worked with Impa and many other researchers to excavate Vah Naboris. She was fascinated to watch how the Divine Beast was brought to the surface, the project revealing what had been presumably hidden for millennia. And such a astonishing undertaking was only possible with vigorous planning, coordination, and teamwork. 

Over a century ago when she realized she wanted Link’s friendship after so many years of shunning him, Zelda devised a plan to win him over: She apologized. She set about learning as much as she could about him. She discovered that he’s partial to sweets and then made a habit of giving him baked goods from the kitchens. She opened up to him, let him know of her insecurities and fears. At the time, she couldn’t say it was any one thing that made them grow close, but close they became, nonetheless.

Impa posed this question that now has Zelda working through implications and considerations… Does she have a plan with Link? Do they  _ need  _ one? Goodness... Zelda worries such a thing could lead to what Purah used to call ‘over-engineering’ something—yet another thing that Zelda is prone to.

So when Link finds her aimlessly wandering around by the Shine that overlooks the village, her brow is furrowed and she is deep in thought.

“Hey, there you are.” 

Oh, how his smile  _ does things _ to her. She clutches her hands before her heart as her stomach flips and flops.

She must be making some sort of face because suddenly he looks concerned. “Everything alright?” 

Zelda walks up, right into his space, and leans on him. She nuzzles her face in that space where his neck meets his shoulder. He laughs, wraps her in an easy hug.

“Did you have a difficult conversation with Impa or something?”

Zelda shakes her head against him. No… the conversation wasn’t difficult at all. In fact it was lovely. It was just that final question that has left her pondering. So… does she bring it up with him? Or does she leave it, buried in her thoughts to ruminate on for some time? But a feeling bubbles up... a feeling that that’s not the right thing to do.

After a moment of silence, she leans back to regard him. “Link. Ask me once more what I would like.”

He raises a brow, but plays along. “Zelda, what would you like?”

She searches his face. “You.”

Once more, Zelda finds that she waits for him with her heart in her hands. She knows her answer to the question she made him ask is an odd one. But… Link has always been able to read her, to see what’s just under the surface, even when she’s at her worst. She prays she can only learn to do as well in understanding him.

She watches as heat spreads across his cheeks. His grip on her waist tightens. She watches his throat bob as he swallows. And it would seem he does indeed understand her. 

Ever a man of action, Link leans forward and captures her lips. His fingers thread through her hair. Zelda makes a pleased noise and his arm tightens around her, he pulls her closer. 

After a moment, Link pulls back, a little breathless. He brings his forehead down to rest on hers and his eyes flick between hers. There’s wonder in his expression, so open and earnest as he curls his fingers into her hair.

Link’s voice is thick with emotion. “I want you, too.”

**Author's Note:**

> Hi everyone! So... This idea popped into my head last week and then wouldn't let me go until I wrote it. I promise I'll be back at it with "Before and After" soon enough, I just needed to get this lil story out of my head :) There are parts of this story that I find to be kinda clunky or don't flow well, but I think it's ultimately good enough. And I'm really, really happy with the cicada scene itself, so I think that's enough.
> 
> So... what inspired this? This is going to sound weird, but if you've played Animal Crossing New Horizons, you'll know that in the summer months there are a lot of cicadas to catch. In fact, you can even catch a cicada shell sitting on a tree trunk. I hadn't know cicadas molted like that until ACNH! And so, a couple weeks ago I was on a walk around our neighborhood and I glanced at a stone wall and what did I see but a cicada shell stuck to the wall. Honestly, I probably never would have noticed it or just not given it a second thought if I hadn't known that cicada shells are a thing. But, because ACNH taught me about them, I was like "ooooh, whoa, do you see this?!" It was really delicate, a little creepy, but kind of pretty in its own way. 
> 
> The analogy with Link only hit me last week. I ran it past some other Zelink authors thinking "this might be something?" Everyone was very encouraging and I felt like I really had something when [MuseLover1901](https://archiveofourown.org/users/MuseLover1901/pseuds/MuseLover1901) said "I can confirm that Link is a cicada 😂".
> 
> Also, this song, [No Matter What](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=yCsKaucByR8&t=16s), from the Steven Universe Movie was kinda kicking around in my head as I was wrapping this story up. I've been thinking about this song a lot when it comes to Link/Zelda because it's just such a cute song and so loving and sweet. I listened to it again tonight and read the lyrics at the same time and I was struck by a really obvious realization: The song is about how Amethyst, one of Steven's friends, loses her memories and Steven travels all around with her to help bring them back. Sooo, lol, maybe that's why it's been on my mind so much when I think about Zelink??
> 
> Here's a chunk that's VERY ZELINK, It's a duet, hence the repeated lines:
> 
> Through whoever you've been  
> Through whoever you've been  
> Through whoever you'll be  
> Through whoever you'll be  
> Through whatever you lose  
> Through whatever you lose  
> You will always have me  
> You will always have me  
> At the end of your road  
> At the end of your road  
> I'll be holding you tight  
> I'll be holding you tight  
> I'm gonna be right by your side no matter what  
> Be right by your side  
> Be right by your side  
> Be right by your side no matter what
> 
> *wipes away a tear* Ahhh, gosh, it's so sweet. I kinda wish now I'd read through the lyrics last week when I'd started writing this story, haha, but I think some of those same themes made it into this story anyways. 
> 
> ALSO, I highly recommend Steven Universe, it's a fantastic show with really wonderful writing, great character development, and some sweet music.
> 
> EDIT: a final thing to add! So, that line Link says about how "Cake can be substantial, if you believe in yourself and try hard enough" was inspired in wording by [spacebeyonce](https://archiveofourown.org/users/spacebeyonce/pseuds/spacebeyonce), lol spacebeyonce said it in the context of being creative while making pancakes, lol It just felt like something Link would say to justify a dinner of only something like cake.
> 
> EDIT 2: I lied, I had one more thing that I forgot about, check out the [this fun art](https://twitter.com/mugirice23/status/1091624623173623808). I just love the idea of them side-eyeing each other! It had to have been a tense couple years between them, since Link drew the sword so young. I would guess that any side-eyeing was coming more from Zelda, but Link might've had his moments too? Who knows! Anyways, I think this artwork is just hilarious and adorable. I definitely had that in mind in the very first part of this story.
> 
> As always, I love all comments and feedback. Lemme know what you think!


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